


(Who Doesn't Like) Pie?

by unicornball



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Dean actually shares his pie, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Human Castiel, M/M, Pre-Slash, canon-divergent, domestic feels, gross amounts of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 22:58:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4723448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicornball/pseuds/unicornball
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Dean gets Cas to try pie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Who Doesn't Like) Pie?

**Author's Note:**

> _Another fic for the Destiel Forever Fic Challenge!_  
>  _PROMPT #29:_ First time Dean gets Cas to try pie.  
>  _So... that's the fic; Dean gets Cas to try pie. I've labled this canon-divergent because Cas is human/fallen but isn’t forced out of the Bunker. (You know... the way it freakin'_ should’ve _been.)_
> 
> _Most of this ended up being from Sam's POV, but not all of it. Hopefully, that won't be too confusing._
> 
> _Enjoy. :)_

Sam's pretty sure it all started with the burrito.

Cas is human and fresh from a shower, sitting at the big table of the Bunker in a hoodie and jeans—that Dean insisted be freshly laundered while Cas showered—as he scarfs the thing, peeling foil back at an alarming rate as the burrito disappears. Between bites (and usually with his mouth full) telling them about his exploits as a human. Sam can tell even with the parts Cas leaves out, it hasn't been easy for him. He kind of wanted to hug the fallen angel when Cas talked about having to choose between food and clean clothes...

(He doesn't comment on it, but he can totally see the light-bulb moment Dean has as he eyes the tattered hoodie, scowling a little, and finally cluing in to what happened to the iconic trenchcoat. Cas looks different without it, but he's not nearly as irked about as Dean appears to be.)

But now that Cas is safe in the Bunker with them, he's not so worried about Cas and what's going to happen. It won't be all roses and glitter, but at least they're together again; under one roof and secure as they can be. A glance at Dean shows his brother is less tense, too. Gaze focused but thoughtful on Cas as the ex-angel finishes his food. If there hadn't been so much shit going on, he knows Dean would've set out to pick Cas up instead of making the poor guy find his own way (and nearly die on the way by all accounts).

Dean even looks pleased until Cas goes and talks about April. Sam nearly face-palms, rolling his eyes at Cas behind Dean's back. But it's a short-lived moment after Dean clears his airways and Cas wanders off to check out the library, giving them both a small pleased smile as he pushes the chair back in.

"That skank," Dean mutters, watching Cas' back disappear down the hallway.

Sam just nods. He know better than to comment either way. He wants to point out that Cas having sex with April isn't a big deal but he can recognize the twist to Dean's mouth and the way his left eye twitches minutely and he's not about to get into a _thing_ about Dean's inappropriate jealousy (and blatant pot-kettle-black attitude towards Cas' newfound joys of causal sex).

Especially _why_ Dean's jealous. He just doesn't have the strength right now because he knows it'll end up in a fight or Dean easily pawing off his pissed off vibes to him since Cas looks like a damn Keene painting right now and not even Dean could stand the beseeching big, blue eyes for long. Definitely not long enough to start yelling at the guy.

So, he just claps Dean on the back and wanders off to join Cas in the library when Dean huffs softly and heads towards the kitchen, his new safe zone and man-cave hideout. A freezer full of burritos isn't going to put a damper on Dean's newfound stress relief of cooking. Even if Dean doesn't (and probably never will) say it aloud, his brother's been practicing and he knows Dean will say Cas deserves the good stuff.

Not that he disagrees but it's almost amusing to see Dean's mother-henning habits return with someone else as the target.

After that, Dean makes it a point to ensure Cas has three meals a day. Sam benefits with just as many huge sandwiches (and the occasional salad that Dean slides in front of him with a 'don't you say a word' glare as he does so), so he's not complaining. Sometimes, Dean cooks it up himself—having spent hours poring through the cookbooks in the Bunker's kitchen or checking recipes online in the most unstealthy way Sam's ever seen.

He's surprised Dean hadn't remembered their talk about how to use the 'private browsing' option, because he knows Dean isn't exactly forthcoming with his new surfing topic, but at least it wasn't that tentacle porn stuff again. He was _still_ getting sketchy pop-ups...

* * *

Once again, Cas and Sam are in the library. Both of them enjoying the comfortable silence and smell of old books as they causally look through the tomes. They're not researching right now, just enjoying the chance to learn something new.

Neither of them are paying attention when Dean enters the library. Until he clears his throat, loudly and obnoxiously, when his presence is ignored long enough.

Sam looks up to see Dean lightly spinning his car keys around his index finger, tucking them into his palm and jiggling them for a moment before going back to spinning them. It's Dean's non-verbal signal that it's time for a drive—probably to get something to eat, he figures once he checks the time. He glances at Cas and smiles a little to see the ex-angel already closing books and stacking them neatly. He does the same, but at a more sedate pace.

And without looking up and staring at Dean every 4 seconds.

"Where we headed?" Sam asks, pushing the newly stacked books to the center of the table. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Cas looking at Dean with that intense curiosity he's been doing since he stumbled through the Bunker's front door, human and dirty. Sam's tempted to ask why, but he kind of already knows and he doesn't want to upset the delicate balance of all things CasDean until he has to.

He stretches as he stands, resisting the urge to roll his eyes when Dean's eyeballs are immediately glued to Cas' midsection when Cas does the same, back crackling with a satisfying series of pops and cricks as his fingers wiggle towards the ceiling. He snorts under his breath when Cas makes a soft moaning sigh sound and Dean licks his bottom lip, still staring.

Dean shakes himself from his Cas-induced stupor just before he can be caught staring and shrugs. He turns on his heel and leaves the library, heading towards the garage. "Dunno yet."

"Can we try that Italian place?" Castiel asks, looking between the Winchesters, pausing mid-step when they both glance at him. Dean with ... he doesn't know what the expression on his face is, but it's pleasant and Sam with polite amusement.

Dean shrugs again. He doesn't think Tony's will have pie, but he's not exactly willing to say no to Cas right now either. It's pretty much the first time Cas has asked for anything (that wasn't a towel because he didn't grab one before stepping in the shower or a napkin as he makes a mess of himself during dinner). So, he nods and tries to ignore the tight warm feeling in his chest when Cas smiles at him, nose crinkled with happy pleasure.

* * *

The car ride to town is comfortably silent. Cas in the backseat, staring out the window and singing softly along to the tape Dean has playing. Sam tries not to find it adorable every time Dean glances in the rear-view, mouth twitching with a smile as he sneaks glances at Cas. Thankfully, the glances are short or he'd have to call Dean out on it so they don't end up in a ditch or plowing through some poor sap's living room.

As soon as they get to the restaurant and sit down, a matronly woman with her greying hair pulled into a loose bun virtually materializes by their table with menus. Sam is silently amused when Dean just hands them back, grinning his usual charming grin (even though the lady is old enough to be their grandmother).

"What's good?" Dean asks instead of glancing at the menu. There's a thoughtful hum and a large, motherly smile on her face as she says "All of it".

And for a moment, Sam is legitimately worried Dean will just go with it, ordering 'all of it', but he doesn't. Still, the list of food Dean rattles off is almost scary and he knows they're going to be packing the 'fridge full of leftovers.

Cas tries pretty much everything, eyes wide as the many platters heaped with food are set on the table, going through the baked ziti like it's the best thing ever. Sam is a little more sedate in his eating, spending a good portion of dinner watching Dean plating things for Cas, swapping plates as they change their minds or want to try something the other has. It's... grossly adorable and he's waiting for a Lady and the Tramp moment to happen any second...

Dean sits back with a satisfied sigh, patting his full belly. He's barely got room to breathe but he's still stoked when he sees pie on the centerpiece-menu thing. He'd been willing to try the tiramisu, but now that he sees they've got good ol' cherry pie, à la Mode, he's not leaving until he gets a slice. Awesome _._

As soon as Theresa comes back, he orders a slice, winking at her when he asks for two forks.

The frowns a little when he turns back to the table; Cas is glaring at the centerpiece and Sam is gaping at him, eyes wide, mouth open—the whole nine.

"What?" he asks, looking between the two. Unsurprisingly, Cas ignores him, deciding that fiddling with the paper ring from the rolled-up silverware is more entertaining than talking to Dean. Sam finally closes his mouth with an audible clack and he scowls, unsure what's got Cas' panties in a bunch and Sam looking like Lucifer just sat down for a cannoli and an espresso.

Sam just sits there a moment, trying to let the moment compute. "You got pie." Dean nods, his scowl morphing into an expression of slight confusion. "One piece," he clarifies. Dean nods again, sending a clear ' _yes, and?_ ' look. "Two forks."

"Yeah, Sam. You were payin' attention, two points."

Sam laughs and tries not to sound hysterical. He shakes his head a little, pushing his hair back when it flops into his face. Cas is still glaring at the leftover Eggplant Parmesan. "You're _sharing_." He knows his tone is more suited for saying 'I saw Jesus' or 'I just found a million dollars just laying on the street' but this is just as miraculous.

"Yeah," Dean says slowly, trying to understand Sam's weird-as-balls demeanor right now. He doesn't see the big deal. It's not like he's got room for a whole piece of pie and he wants Cas to try some. "So?"

Sam snorts and rolls his eyes. "Dean, you stabbed me with a fork the last time I tried to take some of your pie," he says dryly. "Like, literally— _stabbed_ me." He rubs the back of his hand, the phantom twinge of fork tines tingling his skin.

"Don't mess with a man's pie, Sammy," Dean says sagely, getting comfortable in his chair. He elbows Cas a little, finally getting Cas' attention off his marinara smeared plate. "You up for some pie, man?"

Castiel is quiet for a long moment. Sam can see his expression shift and change from annoyed irritation to surprise. He's has an idea what's going on with the fallen angel, even if Dean looks confused by Cas' silence. He should probably tell Cas that Dean's flirting is automatic; any woman, especially one bringing him food, is going to be given the Winchester charm. It's just something that's _Dean_ and in no way means his brother is interested in their waitress. He stifles a laugh at the thought. Not only is she old enough to be their grandmother (and he's pretty sure Dean doesn't yet appreciate women _that_ mature), but his brother hasn't given anyone a serious 'let's put some memories in my memory foam' look in _months_.

"I'm not sure," Castiel finally says, hand rubbing over his full stomach. It's not an unknown feeling, being so full, since he's been enjoying regular meals with Dean and Sam.

Dean chuckles and nudges Cas' shoulder with his, grinning at him. "C'mon, pie's awesome. Try a little?"

And Sam can see the way Dean is holding his breath, his posture tense and anxious. As if Cas would say no to him (which would probably be the first time—ever) or, even worse, not like pie.

"Alright," Castiel says, chin ducking down as he lowers his face so neither Winchester can see how much a simple offer has affected him. His whole body is warm and effervescing with a strange feeling of joy and affection. It's... weird. But not unexpected, not around Dean.

Even if it is over something as simple as pie; something Dean enjoys very much and rarely will share because he's rather gluttonous about it. He's trying not to feel smug or pride in the fact that even Sam hadn't been given such a treat.

Sam watches the exchange, practically hearing a British voice narrating the goings on like a Wild Kingdom episode as Theresa, their awesome waitress that saw a kindred spirit in Dean and hasn't let a plate go empty yet, shuffles over and places a plate on the table. Right between Dean and Cas.

There's a huge piece of pie on it, nearly a quarter of the damn thing if Sam's any judge. She holds the forks out to both of them, a smile on her face that Sam can only call motherly. He nearly laughs when Cas takes his with a reverence he'd expect for the first edition Bible or something, and looks to Dean.

"Woah," Dean says, turning the plate and eyeing the huge slice of pie with something akin to glee. "They don't mess around here," he says brightly, eyes wide with pleasure.

Sam nods a thanks as Theresa takes plates away, sliding the leftovers into foil to-go boxes with neat efficiency. He tries to be polite, but he can't help the way his attention returns to the spectacle that is Dean and Cas eating pie.

Together.

Dean watches, fork just held in his hand instead of being tine-deep in the pie, as Cas adjusts the plate. He's patient, waiting for Cas to get the right angle to get a good forkful of the pie. He's watching closely when Cas finally holds his fork sideways and uses the side to cut off the front triangle of pie.

Sam nearly snickers, amused more than he probably should be that Dean's mouth parts a little as he watches Cas' pie-filled fork raise to his mouth. He's not as excited as Dean appears to be, but he's curious what Cas will think of pie, too.

He's kind of hoping Cas won't be as big a fan of it as Dean... He can practically hear the arguments and fork fights that'll happen over slices of pie in the future.

Castiel tucks the forkful of pie in his mouth, chewing slowly as he lets the bite roll over his tongue to catalog the flavors. The sweet-tart of the cherries and the thick filling, the buttery-flaky crust, the creamy-cool of the ice cream. It's wonderful and he can't help making a soft moan of pleasure as he chews.

"Oh," he says once he's swallowed. He doesn't realize he's closed his eyes until he opens them to see Dean staring at him, fork held limp and forgotten in his hand, face lightly flushed and mouth slightly parted. He frowns a little, glancing down at the plate of pie. "Aren't you having any?"

Sam doesn't have time to stifle the laugh when Dean jumps, fork nearly flying out of his hand, and _squeaks_ out a "yeah". It's kind of hilarious. Dean doesn't seem to notice his amusement; he's too busy putting all his focus on cutting his own small piece of pie, smearing it in the melting ice cream, and sticking it in his mouth like he hadn't been practically drooling over Cas eating freakin' pie.

By the time they're down to cherry-tinted ice cream puddles, forks clashing as they try to get more of the dregs than the other, Sam is enjoying an espresso and trying not to groan at the two idiots. He's relieved he was spared the image of his brother feeding Cas bites of pie, but he knows that's only because Dean was aware of the other people in the restaurant. (Or, mostly due to an unwillingness to give Cas a bigger portion of pie.)

"That was excellent," Castiel says, finally settling down his fork. He's wondering if it's terrible etiquette to pick up the plate and lick it clean. He'd ask Dean but he has a feeling Dean wouldn't exactly appreciate the gesture.

Dean nods, stifling a burp and splaying out in his chair. He makes a perfunctory wipe over his face with the napkin and sighs with contentment. "Yeah, good choice, Cas." He pats Cas' forearm, lingering just a moment before tucking his hands back in his lap.

Sam pointedly looks away, locating their bag stuffed with leftovers so he doesn't have to see the completely sappy moment between the two dorks when Cas just beams at Dean and his brother just stares back, a small but pleased smile on his face.

It's so gross but he's smiling to himself, too, pleased to see his brother and Cas looking happy and contented with life for a moment.

Until he has to practically kick Dean under the table to get his brother's attention so they can pay the bill and leave.


End file.
